


A Man and His Dog

by BurningLeviathans



Category: Dishonored
Genre: Animal Violence, Gen, I'm really sorry I wrote this, Overseers - Freeform, Warfare Overseers, Wolfhounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningLeviathans/pseuds/BurningLeviathans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most Overseers are gifted with a wolfhound companion. Martin used to be one of those Overseers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man and His Dog

It was common knowledge that most Overseers were assigned to a wolfhound, the beasts being their sole method of patrol. The creatures were advertised as nothing but bloodythirsty, brainless murderers that wouldn't think twice on tearing your throat out if they weren't properly trained. Of course, the Abbey went to great length to ensure they were properly broken, _properly disciplined_ , they called it. It was the equivalent to human torture, some said. Though as long as they didn't turn on their human counterparts, no one really complained about it. Turn a blind eye, and you've nothing to worry about.

Most wolfhounds were taken off the streets and intensely trained before they were given to Overseers, but some were lucky enough to get a hound from birth, or just about. Not many, but it was starting to become an easier practice than capturing the wild beasts. Martin had been one of those lucky few, and he counted his blessings every moment.

Walking into the kennel about a year after becoming an Overseer, the young Morley man flinched just barely from the sudden snarls, the loud barking and almost rabid growling. The kennels were near filled at this point, as the Overseers had no true use for the wolfhounds just yet. Though it was still a tradition to give a new man to the Abbey a loyal hound. One of the superior Overseers rambled on about how to treat the beast, and how to best use its talents, but behind the metallic mask, it all fell on deaf ears. Martin was too fascinated with the rambunctious young pups that were snapping and biting at each other, falling over one another.

Pulling the lever, _Cage E_ , to unlock the door, the Overseer motioned for Martin to take his pick, and the man almost eagerly opened the door, carefully moving in and kneeling down. With the sudden new playmate, the young hounds yapped and raced over to him, nipping and biting at his gloved fingers, tugging on his sleeves and shirttail. He'd never had a pet before, and to him, these little wriggling bodies were the furthest thing from monsters in the making.

A single scrawny runt clamboured up into his lap, its skinny front paws reaching up to paw at the man's chin, before pressing firmly to his chest, the hound's skinny muzzle tilted up to get a better look at the Overseer. Martin carefully pulled his right hand away from the other pups, who whined and scurried off to chew at their friends, and placed it on the hound's tiny head. Somehow, just from looking at this steadfast, straightforward animal, he knew that this was the one he wanted. Or rather, he was the one this creature wanted.

Picking the small body up, he turned to the supervising Overseer and nodded to his pick, the hound staring up at its new master almost expectantly. With a tinny grunt, the Overseer picked up a branding iron and some branding paper, something new Dunwall had come up with. The paper was supposedly an alternative to wasting metal on different branding designs, and made changing them out more efficient. Martin was to put some sort of special design, insignia, whatever he wanted on the paper and then brand the pup's hind thigh, to mark it.

Completely forgetting his composure as a man of faith instead of just a common citizen, the young Overseer immediately held the pup close to his chest, expressing his disgust in a look of horror. He had no idea what the other man might think, or even how he might look behind that mask, but the very thought of subjecting a young creature to that kind of pain was unthinkable. It just wasn't something Martin was prepared to do.

Shrugging, the older Overseer put the branding iron and paper back, before pushing the lever to the cage back down, locking the door and leaving, waving a hand. He said something about how Martin was to take care of it now, that it was his sole responsibility to train it and feed it, though with his back to the young Morley man, and already heading out of the kennels, it wasn't heard.

Martin looked down again at the pup, who let his tongue loll out the side of his mouth and lick his new companion, before he smiled almost childishly. For the first time in a decade, he finally had a friend.

* * *

Years passed with Martin and the hound, whom he'd affectionately named Will (after the creature's strong will that had only grown throughout their time together), training and walking the open courtyards together, much to the distaste of the other Overseers. He was reprimanded again and again for keeping his hound too close to him, for treating it like anything other than a machine that was to work for him, but it never got to the man. Why would he want to treat the hound like anything else?

Even though Will had clearly been the runt of the pack, the wolfhound had grown into a strong, lithe creature. He wasn't the biggest wolfhound among the rest, but he was certainly much faster and much more responsive to commands.

Every night, it was a tradition for Martin to bathe Will, then clean out the tub and bathe himself with the hound laying beside him, before leading the way into the bunks. When he'd first joined the Abbey, he'd had a top bunk, and had kept it for as long as possible. But with Will growing larger and larger, there was never enough room, and he'd quickly put in a request for a bottom bunk, which was granted him. Strangely enough, it was a bit larger than his top bunk, allowing him to lay down with his head propped up by a pillow, a book in one hand. Will would quickly climb onto the bed and tiptoe his way up as far as he could get, before curling up beside Martin and resting his slender head atop the man's chest, where a hand would automatically lay across the smooth fur.

It was rare that Martin would ever shift in his sleep, his arm resting over Will's back as the wolfhound kept his head atop his companion's steadily rising and falling chest. The first thing the young Morley man would hear every morning would be the soft snorts coming from the wolfhound, whose wet nose would be mere inches from his face, large eyes staring at him before a tail would begin thumping on the bed, practically shaking it.

As soon as his body shifted ever so slightly, the large hound would vault off the bed and turn, entire body shaking with the intensity that his tail was wagging. Martin couldn't help but smile every time, standing to dress and get food for the both of them to begin their day. This continued in the same fashion, with little change.

Then, about five years after getting Will, Martin was acutely aware of the fact that there was another Overseer who hated both him and his wolfhound. The man's name was Jasper, and they were far from friendly. Jasper had taken to walking around with his own hound, whom he'd named Killer. A typical name from the close-minded rest of the Overseer bunch. Jasper and Martin would always get the patrolling shifts, having to walk the courtyards and parallel streets with an uncomfortable closeness. Their hounds could often sense the tension between their masters, and displayed it just as fervently.

The morning of the day when the Lord Protector, Corvo Attano, was to be sent away to find a cure for the plague, Martin had been called up to High Overseer Campbell's office. Normally, he would have brought Will along with him, but the hound was to train with the rest that day. Kneeling down, he tapped the large beast's chin lightly, lifting his head (which had been lowered mournfully) and smiling at the big eyes that met his own. A hand ran over the animal's head, before scratching lightly behind one ear, another hand scratching beneath the slender chin.

With a few words of encouragement to the hound, the Overseer left him in the kennels, making his way to Campbell's office. It turned out to just be another uneventful chat on Abbey business, about how this plague mess was creating more belief in the Outsider, and how they were to do something about it, whether they liked it or not. Martin was to brief the new Overseers on their assignments, and where they were to go in Dunwall.

Leaving an hour later, the Morley man had to contain himself from running back to the kennels to fetch his companion, only to run into Jasper. The Overseer sneered at Martin, shoving him back a few steps and throwing taunts and insults about him, slurs about his Morley blood. A fist curled at Martin's side, ready to knock the lights out of Jasper's eyes, before he saw the other Overseer's hound snarling at him from around the corner, trotting up. His fist immediately relaxed, though his eyes went from Jasper's face to over his shoulder, seeing Will darting up and skidding to Martin's side. The hound was practically frothing at the mouth.

A hand lay atop the beast's head in an attempt to calm him, though Jasper immediately took that advantage to give a sharp kick at Martin. A loud snarl ripped from Will's throat as his jaws opened, snapping just inches away from Jasper's leg, though the action alone was enough to send him falling onto his backside, shouting and commanding his animal forward.

The ferocious wolfhound lunged, easily using his size against Martin's hound, and the two jumped away from their masters, teeth and fur flying. It was all a blur to Martin as he shouted and tried to pry his hound back, to bring him back to safety, but a harsh bite to the hand caused him to recoil, holding his wound.

All he could do was helplessly watch as the animals snarled and snapped at one another, tearing chunks of fur and flesh from the other's body, before he saw the larger hound's jaws close over Will's head, trapping him. Lurching forward, a single scream ripped from Martin's throat as a loud crack echoed in the air, Will's body immediately falling limp in Killer's hold. The larger hound dropped the smaller and went back to his master's side, the two retreating down the street, leaving Martin with his dead companion.

The Overseer stood beside Will's body, blood tracing the pavement cracks. His mind went completely blank, only a black that enveloped his brain. His entire body was numb, the throbbing pain from his bleeding hand gone, only a hollow ache emanating through him. His body crumpled, causing him to fall to his knees beside his companion, a shaky hand laying atop Will's ribcage.

Martin couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, or if he'd ever cried. Even now, he could barely feel it over the sense of utter loss, and the cold ache that ate his soul.


End file.
